Seasons
by SuavePanda
Summary: 30 day challenge, cut short. A theme each day and a drabble for each theme. Jason/Piper.
1. cowboy

"Really? You're going to start it like _that_? This completely discredits the entire franchise! For Chrissake, he's supposed to be a _little kid_—"

"Shush." Jason nudges Piper with his elbow, careful not to knock over the popcorn. "I'm trying to watch."

"Well, you shouldn't be! What the hell is—"

"Piper." He looks at her for a long moment. "It's a kid's movie."

"But they got it all wrong!" She points indignantly up at the screen, where Andy's head looms giant as he packs for college. Jason has never seen Toy Story before, and with the way Piper is freaking out, he doesn't really want to see it again.

"It's just a movie. Be quiet."

She humphs and fidgets in her seat, but she settles down eventually. Until, of course, the purple bear thing turns out to be rotten to the core, when she begins ranting about core morals and the toxicity of mainstream values.

He groans lowly. "Do you mind?"

Piper continues talking right over him. "—and they just _give up_?"

And in a strange way, it just wouldn't be the same without her beside him like this, bothering him as he tries to concentrate.

Because even though he minds, he doesn't mind at all.


	2. bedroom

"Should we put it here? Or maybe by the window?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's good. But then where should the lamp go?"

"By the vent?"

"I thought we were putting the table there."

Piper groans. "Right, I forgot. Gods, at this rate in a month I won't even remember my own name."

Jason comes to stand next to her, smiling the gentle smile that has been on his face for the past six months, and takes her hand quietly. "Jesus, honey, you're making me feel old."

"We aren't old," Piper says. "But we will be."

"Someday," he agrees warmly, kissing her cheek. "We'll play bingo."

"I hate bingo," she says, and looks down at the swell of her stomach. "And you will too."

They stand together for a moment in the nursery they're creating, both looking at the curve of her stomach and thinking of the tiny person in it who will eventually hate bingo. A little family of two, soon to be three.

(Piper wanted yellow paint for the walls so there's yellow paint on the walls, and Jason wanted the pine crib so there's a pine crib).

They stand together, Jason's hand moving back and forth over her stomach, and inside her something (_someone_) kicks.

Their eyes meet, and they're smiling.

"Alexandra," Piper says softly.

"We'll call her Alexa."

"Alexa Grace-McLean."

He hums against her shoulder. "She's going to be so perfect, honey."

She takes his hand again. "I know." She glances around the unfinished room. "So let's get this done before she gets here."

"Only three more months," Jason says as he moves the lamp next to the crib.

Except—

"I thought we were going to put the rocker there."

It's true. The lamp is in the rocker's place, but, Piper realizes, that's all right. Everything will come together in the end. Everything will be as it ought.

Their miracle is coming, and the yellow walls glow in the sun.


	3. tutor

"Like this?"

"Better. But spread your legs a bit; make sure your feet line up with your shoulders. And don't face me full-on. If you're turned to the side you're a smaller target, and it's harder for an attacker to hit anything vital."

"Okay." I stand likes he tells me to, holding Katroptis out in front of me. "And the blade…?"

"—is diagonal, pointed up a bit," Jason supplies, moving my arm into the correct stance. He leaves his hand on my shoulder longer than he should, and a tiny thrill goes through me. It hasn't been long since this started—since _we_ started—and I'm not used to him touching me. Everything feels electric, and it doesn't help that he's staring at me as I practice fighting.

"And then—" I step forward and slash into the dummy, jumping back to protect myself from any retaliation.

"Exactly." Jason looks pleased. "I think you've got it."

"So there's no reason for more practice?"

Practice, just the two of us, out here all alone. Practice that we usually spend training (a good excuse when I actually needed guidance), but tends to end in kissing.

He seems to realize what I'm saying, and his face falls. "I guess not."

I lean forward conspiratorially, squinting at the gash I made in the canvas dummy. "Hmm… I think I could've hit it at a better angle, though. What do you think?"

He hides a grin before rearranging his features into a thoughtful frown. "I think you're right. We'd probably better stay out for a little longer, then."

"A little longer," I agree, and open my arms to him. "Teach me how?"


	4. magnet

It doesn't make sense, not even to him. He still isn't sure what happened. All he knows is here he is. Here is where he ended up.

(Here—

The sun is high in the sky and there are no clouds. She grins at him from under her hat and he grins back, and clouds float aimless, wandering, and a bird wheels lazily overhead.

Picnics aren't exactly their thing, but this is one is… nice. Not nearly as many ants as last time, and no hellhounds in sight. If he didn't know better he'd think they were normal people.

Normal, and she takes his hand in that shy way of hers and splays out their fingers, and the sandwiches are gone but that's okay. She kisses the corner of his mouth and it's like something in him wakes up. Something small and soft that really, really likes when her thumb brushes over his knuckles and she grins at him from under her hat.

The trees are a breeze. The air is a lullaby.

He shifts. The blanket underneath them is green gingham. It's a bit lumpy and his foot is numb and he'd stay there forever if she asked.

She leans back and her hair spills over her shoulders, and a month has passed since everything began and he loves her. Loves the way she's rolled up the sleeves of her Oxford, the way she's taken the laces out of her shoes.

The sun is less high in the sky and that's all right. Today is a gentle day. She runs a hand over the gingham. Fat bees sway from flower to flower in a haze.

He watches her watch the leaves; and how he swoons. Oh, my darling, how he swoons.)


	5. join

It's getting cold, and the light has seeped from the sky. Night sighs over everything.

I rearrange myself on the hill. The slope curves beneath my spine and when I lay on my back the trees fall away until it's only me and the vastness of the sky sprawled above me.

The stars are beginning to come out.

Next to me, Jason is on his back too. My gaze wanders over his profile, the uneven line of his nose, the dip under his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his closed eyes.

And then he opens his eyes and looks back at me. He doesn't smile. He just looks, watches, eyes soft. The last orange streaks are disappearing from the horizon and he's reaching into me and taking my soul in his hands. I let him, because I've taken his, too.

The night glimmers wintery, and he brings my hand to his mouth and presses kisses to my palm, his eyes locked on mine. Something is happening. Something is being set free.

A rocket is launched and winds its way up. The air is still, one collective breath being held.

The first fireworks go off in a shower of gold trails and red blooms. They're mesmerizing, and I'm staring up when Jason turns my face back to him.

He opens his mouth, and he's searching desperately for the right words but nothing is coming out. So his hands slide to the back of my head and I lean forward and our lips touch, and he's definitely leading. His tongue traces my upper lip and slips itself into my mouth and we're mashed together and one of my legs is between his. He bites my lip, dragging, and I suck his bottom lip hard, pushing myself against him. His teeth are smooth under my tongue and his fingers curl into my hair and our hips move together, and we fight to taste each other and he moans.

And then we're pulling apart with a wet sound and staring at each other, mouths agape, as light arcs above us. Because for a kiss that lasted twenty seconds, the emotion of it was overwhelming and I'm trying and failing to catch my breath and slow my racing heart.

We stare, and he's found what he was searching for. He takes my hand and touches it to his chest, holds it there, to his heart, and I feel it beating wildly. And we don't need words to understand each other.

We lay there on the hill, other campers spread out around us as the fireworks blossom in the sky. Blue sparks sizzle and die as they fall. We ooh and we ah.

The show pauses. The stars are obscured by the trails of the explosions.

Jason's breath is at my neck and he moves his mouth over my ear in a way he knows I can't resist, a way he knows makes me arch and shudder, and he tugs with his teeth in exactly the right place and I gasp and he whispers,

"I love you."

I look at him, at the shadows in his eyes, and I don't respond. I don't have to.

He knows.

And then the world explodes.

The finale is breathtaking. The colors are momentous, wheeling and dashing and flying with gorgeously unsynchronized chaos. A year of war and loss and challenge and sacrifice, summed in chemical reactions in the sky.

I reach for Jason, and I don't let go.


	6. pages

**kinda-spoilers for Maximum Ride: Nevermore**

* * *

Piper rustles next to Jason, same as she's been doing for the past half hour. She's biting her nails now, gnawing them subconsciously, and she clutches her book desperately with her free hand.

Jason absolutely adores watching her when she's like this.

She reacts with each little turn of the plot; a moment ago she was breathing quickly, sitting straight up, and now she's hunched over herself.

"No," she gasps, eyes riveted to the page.

Jason puts his arm on the couch behind her head. "No what?"

"Dylan was choking Fang," Piper explains. "But Max stopped him and then Dr. Martinez showed up..."

She turns the page and falls silent, leaning into Jason's shoulder. He closes his eyes and smiles.

And then Piper squeals softly to herself and he's alert again. She's holding the book closer to her face than before and her eyes are bright.

"What happened?" he asks.

He knows something's up when a blush spreads over her cheeks. "Nothing."

Jason shrugs noncommittally and when she turns away he peeks over her shoulder.

...he carried me out to a giant hammock on one of the balconies. I think we've established that I'm not the type of girl who needs to actually be swept off her feet, but the suggestion in his mischievous eyes was enough to-

"Hey!" Piper holds the book out of reach, her face a hot red. "What are you doing?"

"Reading," he says with a smirk. "My heart raced as he leaned in again, never taking his eyes from my face. Then those perfect lips met mine in the softest, most-"

"Ugh," she groans, hiding her face with her hands. "Just let me read, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees, unable to keep the grin of his face.

"Good," she mutters, burying her nose in the pages once again.

He shifts beside her. "Piper."

"What?" she intones, her eyes never leaving the printed words.

"If you ever want to try what's in there," Jason begins, nodding at the book, "I'm all for it."

Piper huffs and smacks him lightly, not dignifying his offer with a response.

She continues to read; her fingers tremble on the page. She sighs and jerks and murmurs.

Gods. He just really, really loves watching her read.


	7. push

"Piper, it's not going to fit."

"Of course it will. Just stop being so gentle; push harder."

"I am, but nothing's happening."

"Maybe a different angle?"

"Good idea."

"...Not working."

"It was worth a shot."

"We can make this work, Jason ."

"You really think so? It doesn't seem like it."

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, what do we do if it doesn't fit?"

"Or if it gets stuck."

"It won't get stuck. Okay, it's pretty big, but it won't get stuck."

"Good to see that you're so optimistic."

"I've been waiting for this forever, Jason. I'm not giving up now."

"...Really?"

"Really what?"

"Really, you've been waiting for this forever?"

"Yeah. What, is that bad?"

"No, no, I just didn't think you felt that way."

"I can tell. Now push."

"What if I break something?"

"Nothing is going to break."

"If you say so. Three...two...

"That did absolutely nothing."

"Exactly! Piper, it's too big."

There's a sudden pattering of feet on wood and Leo appears, eyes wide. "What's going on?"

Piper points at the couch squashed halfway through the door. "We can't get it though; the doorframe is too narrow. Want to help?"

But Leo's already shaking his head, glancing from Jason to Piper and back again. For some reason his cheeks are pink. "Nah, I'm good. I had thought..."

"Thought what?" Jason asks, shoving the couch again.

"Never mind," Leo says hurriedly. He retreats the way he came, his face now a brilliant red.

Once he's gone, Piper and Jason turn hack to each other.

"That was weird," she says.

"Leo's weird," he agrees, and then they're back to moaning and groaning as they struggle to make it fit.


	8. clutch

Piper has never understood why people hold hands. Sure, maybe it's kind of cute, but it seems like it would get in the way. She also thinks it's like claiming a person, and her free-spirited heart doesn't agree with that. In her opinion, the world would be just fine without hand holding.

Or at least, that's what she used to think. Because when Jason takes her hand and wraps his fingers over hers, shivers spill across her spine and nervous excitement pours through her. It's like a drug, and Piper is hooked.

Everything about it draws her in, from the feel of his palm against hers to the way he blushes when he reaches for her. She finds herself twining her fingers with his whenever she can; she can't help it. It's as if she's been given a sixth sense overnight.

Because she _knows_. Knows that when Jason puts a hand between them and splays his fingers he's asking her to put her hand on top of his. Knows how electric it feels when he moves his thumb over her knuckles, how new and untouched and perfect it is.

It's ludicrously nice, holding hands with Jason. And even though Piper is usually a very stubborn person, this time she doesn't mind being proven wrong.


	9. gone

He's not exactly sure how to do it. How to leave. Whether to leave.

Because, see, he doesn't want to leave, but at the same time he does. He doesn't want to leave her. He wants to go back to Camp, to go back home.

It's hard, and it's confusing, because he has a home that's Camp Jupiter but he also has a home that's Piper, and how in the world does a person make a decision like that.

For Jason, a person doesn't.

It isn't that he won't decide. It's that he can't.

(She can't go. He can't stay.)

He wants to be where he belongs. But is that with her or with Camp?

It's with both, and he knows that, and no matter what he does he'll kill a little part of himself and it hurts.

She tells him to go, just like he knew she would, and it hurts that she thinks he cares more about them than her.

And Leo looks at him and it's a slap to the face, because if anyone has Piper's best interests at heart it's Leo. Leo won't let Jason get off easy, and he's thankful for that. He doesn't know what he'd do if he broke something he couldn't fix.

He'd cry, probably. War doesn't ration tears.

Either way, things will come apart. Gently, yes, but they will come apart.

Which one will it be?

He can't decide. He's poison.

(Sometimes it doesn't work, but this time he needs it to.)

He sits, stares, thinks, and the sky presses close on his hunched back and he curls in on himself, and the ground is dirt and the clouds are stones. When did peace become so complicated?

He packs, and then he unpacks. She finds him with his head in his hands next to his suitcase and she kneels next to him, silent, and she covers his hand with hers.

"Be where you need to be," she says, and kisses his palm and leaves.

And that's _everywhere_.

So he thinks some more, and he closes his eyes, and he sighs. The rising sun blinds him in the morning.

He's only just sixteen. He doesn't know how to handle it, leaving.


	10. brink

It's never been easy, and that's the way they like it.

Love swings, clashes, clatters, and it's like a word just on the tip of her tongue. It's tug of war, and nobody's giving in.

It's been a year, but who's keeping track?

They'll meet and she'll burn herself inside out, slice her finger, and she won't feel the sting until he tells her to. She loves him with all the hate she has in her.

Dysfunctional? Probably.

They make each other angry. So angry, so fucking angry, and every day's a whirlwind and kisses are light like feathers, heavy like death. He knows each inch of her and he uses it to every advantage, hands like fire and eyes like knives.

She can cut into him, and she does.

Clouds are shadows on his throat and rain pours down in oceans and she looks at him like he's the reason why. The grass has never been greener.

(The fights are her favorite.)

The ring, she thinks, will be shards of glass.

Day passes like night and he's got her wound around his finger, and she lets her hair loose in the wind.

It's love that keeps her waiting, and nothing compares.


	11. slow

The wind is sweeping and cool, and I shiver. It lifts my hair and brushes Piper's braids over the side of my face.

We're breathing deeply, the two of us, almost as if we're asleep. The silence is comforting, as is her presence beside me. The sand beneath me curves to my weight, almost cradling me, and the sky is black with the early morning.

It's times like these when I think I'm falling in love with Piper, if I'm not in love with her already.

I close my eyes, hear her next to me, hear her living. Hear all the worries and fears, all the mounting concerns, that things will change soon. Something will happen. Because something always does.

War is not easy. Life is lived in shades of gray. Death is real, and so is pain.

But I'm here, on the beach with an extraordinary girl whom I might be in love with, and it's two in the morning. Death and pain can wait.

I lay with her on the sand, and I let go.

I relax; battle slips my mind and my muscles uncoil. I sink into it, the slow peace of it, and imagine it's forever.

I think unguarded thoughts, gentle thoughts, of home and ease and her. Of pillow fights and little secrets and stolen socks.

My hand lays on the sand between us, and she curls her fingers into mine. I turn and she's looking at my with dark eyes, eyes that hold wonders, and we erase the gap and meet in the middle.

Her lips are soft and unsure as we lay there kissing. They find me and at first they ask questions, and our noses touch and we are content. They aren't long kisses, and they aren't heated. They are steady and quiet and sweet, sending gracious shudders unfurling down my spine.

We lay on our backs on the beach with our faces tilted toward one another and we kiss. And for once everything feels okay.


	12. intermission

**Third of the way through! **

**Which one is your favorite so far?**

**(Don't worry, I'm still working on all those suggestions.)**

**About the confusion with the last chapter: I uploaded the wrong thing. It's fixed now; I posted the actual "Slow." Thanks to the people who told me.**

**The real Chapter Eleven is now officially up! **


	13. fly

"Where to?"

Jason licks cotton candy off his fingers, which are slowly turning blue from the dye in the candy, and steps to the side to let a group of ten year olds pass. "I don't know. We could go on the Ferris wheel again."

Piper shakes her head, slurping her Coke. "We've already done that twice."

"Yeah, and it's pretty boring. What about the Scream?"

She laughs. "That's such a stupid name. Is it a rollercoaster or something?"

"It's this thing that you lay down on and it turns you in pretty much every direction all at once."

"Is it fast?"

"So I've heard."

"Let's do it."

They push their way past through the crowds of people, Jason wiping his sticky fingers on his jeans, and squish themselves into line. The guy in front of them sneezes and shuffles a lot, but it isn't long before they're being strapped into (onto?) the ride.

Piper is flat on her back next to Jason, her hair falling over the edges of the seat. She looks at him and grins, and as the machine begins to whirr and rumble, the excitement on her face is evident.

And then it starts, and it's awesome.

It turns them every way it feasibly can. It's like being in the middle of a tornado (and Jason would know). In short, it's fantastic, and as soon as they've unbuckled themselves he immediately wants to go again.

Their eyes meet. Her hair is everywhere. He supposes his isn't much better.

"Again?" they ask at the same time.

"Absolutely," she breathes, and they spend the rest of the day riding the Scream over and over.

(His fingers stay blue for weeks, but he doesn't mind.)


	14. lash

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"I always knew this was a mistake."

"Yeah, because you can see all the goddamned possibilities."

"And you're an egotistic asshole with a dick for a brain."

"Shut up."

"Shut-"

Jason's kiss is desperate, and Piper loves him all the more for it.


	15. faith

Jason sighs and stares at the ceiling. It's vaulted, arching high over his head, and it's made of veined white marble. The ceiling in the room of a movie star's daughter.

Piper shifts next to him on the bed. Her head pillowed by his arm. He's curled into her, her legs bent between his, and her hand rests on his stomach. She sighs, too.

What they're convincing themselves to attempt has proved disastrous for most couples. He isn't even sure why they're considering the idea. Except, of course, that neither of them are willing to give in and ignore their dreams. A long distance relationship feels impossible, but it's the only way.

Jason stirs, pressing his face into her neck. "I'm really going to miss you. I don't..."

"We'll make it work," Piper says firmly, turning toward him. "It'll be hard at first, but we can do it."

"Yeah, because love beats all," he snorts, but her words still give him infinitesimal comfort. He kisses her cheek and grazes her ear, already missing having her beside him.

Her flight leaves in seventy one hours. He isn't leaving her until the plane is in the air.

Piper is quiet, and when she eventually speaks it's in a whisper. "You're going to love it, Jason. You'll be so close to home."

Yes, maybe his college will be near San Francisco, but Camp Jupiter is only part of the equation. Piper is going to school on the East Coast. There will be a country between them. How can Jason adjust to a separation that large when they've been right beside each other for so many years?

He's pretty sure he won't.

So he pulls her closer and hugs her hard, the two of them lying there on her bed under the vaulted ceiling, and he tries to remember everything he can so that when she's gone he won't forget.

Who is he kidding. Forgetting is impossible.

Still, he traces the sharp angles in her shoulders (he calls them bony and she hates it) and measures the length of her forehead with his finger. Her breath is warm on his face and her eyes are dark in his memory. The way her fingers twine with his mark him like a brand.

He's taken. Period.

And he knows he'll stay that way at college. He knows Piper will, too; his faith in her is insurmountable. But at the same time, it would be stupid of him to think this won't change them. They might grow apart.

Then again, they might grow together.

(He hasn't looked at rings-he's afraid he'll jinx the separation-but the way things are going, it won't be long before he's picking through diamonds.)

Still, all of that is far off, hazy compared to the clarity of her beside him now. He'll save thinking for another time.

"I'll see you on holidays," she says quietly. Her thumb brushes his palm.

"I'm better at traveling now—maybe I could fly there some weekends."

"And we can make Nico shadowtravel us."

He smiles. "Something like that."

Piper nods, closing her eyes and yawning. "It'll be different. But we can handle it."

The other side of the country is a long way away.

"We'll IM," she says. "We've gotten through worse."

And it's true. They have. He just needs to have a little faith. Needs to believe her.

So he relaxes back into her arms, and he does.


	16. drops

They've started meeting on the deck late at night, after everyone has gone to their rooms and the last light has blinked off. Between the hallway to the mess and the stairwell down into the battlements, a little alcove has snuck itself aboard in the form of an old three-walled crate. They find each other here, spread a blanket or two over the rough wood, and then they settle in side by side and they talk about movies and politics and history and war and last night's dinner.

Tonight he's remembered an extra sheet, too, and they tuck it across the opening in the crate, keeping out the drops of rain that are just beginning to fall. Clouds hide the moon.

They lay down. They fall into place with each other just as they so many times before, but something is different. Something is still.

Tonight it rains, and they do not speak.

Her hand takes his easily. Familiarly. He knows she'll rub her finger across his palm once, twice, and then wrap her hand around his; then he'll move so their fingers are twined.

Her finger rubs once, twice.

She pauses.

"This is your life line," she tells him, drawing her finger along the swoop of a crease in his palm.

He shifts closer to her. "What does it mean?"

"It's how long you'll live."

"Tell me."

"You're going to get old, Jason," she says, her voice a wash of warmth on his ear. "You're going to have wrinkles and go gray and get old."

He closes his eyes. "I wish you could be right."

Her words are quiet and firm. "I am."

They're silent again for a while. Her lips are soft against his skin. He tries to believe her, and it almost works.

Maybe they could grow old together.

He imagines it, and he dreams.

Eventually, just when he thinks she's fallen asleep, she stirs beside him. "Want me to do another?"

He finds her hand in the darkness, opening his palm for her to read. "Please."

"This is your heart line," she whispers, barely audible, and traces a gently curving line from his index finger to his pinky.

He breathes deeply, listening to water drum on the top of the crate.

"It shows your emotions." She's warm and he's cold, and he nestles into her, fitting his chin to her shoulder.

He pulls a blanket over them, lies on his side, faces her. "What are they?"

"There are a lot."

"I know."

"And they're confusing. You don't know what to do."

He doesn't think she's talking about him anymore.

"You don't know what's right or wrong and everything is in shades of gray. And it's like the world is against you. And…" Her voice trembles and he hugs her to him.

"Piper, we're going to get through this."

"I know. It's just… sometimes I _don't_ know." She looks at him, her eyes wide. "Honestly, you're the only thing that's been keeping me sane."

"Same," he mumbles, kissing her hair, and they lapse into comfortable silence.

The shower has turned into a drizzle.

He can't hold it in.

"Piper," he says, waiting for her to look at him.

She moves in his arms. "Hmm?"

"I think I'm in love with you."

He feels her breathing quicken. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He probably tastes like garlic from the pizza they had earlier, but she doesn't care so neither does he. Her mouth finds his all the same, and the way she touches him is erasing every doubt.

"Thanks," she says after, because she isn't sure what else to say.

He doesn't laugh, and he doesn't smile. He squeezes her hand. "You're welcome," he says, and it's two small and short words, universal words, words that mean absolutely everything, and he spends the rest of the night tracing her heart line and listening to the rain on the roof.


	17. yearn

**it's jeyna don't hurt me**

* * *

_It's the way she smiles at him. Like there's something amazing behind him, and she looks right through him as she tries to catch a glimpse of it._

Jason shoves his hands deeper in his pockets, steps to the side of the road to let a girl pass.

_It's the way she dances with him and he feels so special, but then she dances with Leo too and he doesn't know what his heart is doing. It's pounding. She doesn't look him in the eye any more._

The air is swollen; a storm is gathering somewhere nearby. Heat hangs, tired, flowing in and around the pale marble stone.

_It's the way she flashes, a true gem; gorgeous, wrapping herself in light and flinging out shine. But under the glowing, faceted façade…_

The stars are starting to come out, and he stares up at them for a long moment, remembering the myths and wondering.

_Piper is just as beautiful close up as she is far away, but _they_ are a different matter._

They_ are not beautiful at all._

_And the more he accepts it, the more he allows himself to let her go._

_Still, though. It stings. It probably will for a while._

He steps inside his little house just as the rain comes, and there's someone on the couch.

At first, he thinks _she's_ here. _Piper's_ here.

But no. The girl's hair is dark brown, not chestnut. And she's the only one who would enter his space like this. Reyna.

He sits down heavily beside her, and he sighs, long and low and wistful, and wishes that just this once things had been okay. But he's a son of Jupiter and that's too much to ask for, so he got plucked from his life and dropped into another.

And he found a love, and then he lost her.

_(And he still loves her, but he doesn't. Not really. Not the way he could. Not the way she needs.)_

But Reyna…Reyna is something else.

They're friends, even after it all. Barely. But goddamn it, they will come back from this. They have to.

_(Maybe 'friends' isn't the right way to put it.)_

She doesn't look at him when he coughs, and she doesn't look at him when he runs a hand through his hair. She doesn't acknowledge him until he grabs her hand, and then it's only to coolly brush her bangs behind her ear.

"I haven't …seen you in a while," he begins, faltering under her glare.

"You are not forgiven," she says, and her nails are sharp on his skin.

"Not yet," he says, and kisses her for the first time in months.

_He's torn._

"You love Piper," Reyna accuses, her voice as secret and raw as he's ever heard it, as she pulls his shirt over his head.

_Passion or reason. Emotion or control._

He slips her toga off her shoulder and kisses the skin there. "I used to."

"Not now?"

"Not for a long time."

When their lips touch again, he can feel all her worry and fear in the pressure or her mouth on his, all the concern and desperation and hardship she's been through. And it cuts him deeper than anything he's ever felt with Piper.

_It's his head or his heart, but right now, they both belong to her._

And it's true, and it's right. Because he isn't confused. He loves Piper, but he's in love with Reyna. The gap is unbreachable, and he's not going to balance on that rickety bridge any more.

He's found his side, and he's only now coming home.


End file.
